


deep blue

by lamperouge



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Aged-Up Character(s), Alternate Universe - Music Industry, Angst, Break Up, F/M, Fluff and Angst, Idol AU, Lovers to Exes to Lovers, Mutual Pining, Post-Break Up, Singer-songwriter AU, osamu is a member of an idol group that we all know and love, osayachi, post-angst, yachi is the singer songwriter indie girl we all know and love
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-10-14
Updated: 2021-02-23
Packaged: 2021-03-08 19:34:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 20,204
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27002047
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lamperouge/pseuds/lamperouge
Summary: you will never forget the way people made you feel, not  when you’re in your room writing about your grievances, and especially not when people are screaming both of your names from different places.[ or, yachi is an indie singer-songwriter and her ex-boyfriend osamu is a member of one of the world’s most famous boy groups. ]
Relationships: Miya Osamu/Yachi Hitoka
Comments: 38
Kudos: 72





	1. somebody else

**Author's Note:**

> so here's an attempt at a multi-chaptered fic with yachi and osamu in the music industry because for some reason it just feels right. a lot of songs will be referenced in this fic and some songs that yachi & osamu will work on in the future chapters are the referenced songs in the beginning of the chapter. so yes the songs are all carefully picked out and i spent time looking for the perfect ones to fit the chapters HDSKHDKSHDK.

_[ somebody else - the 1975 ]_

-

**YACHI HITOKA COULD REMEMBER THE VERY FIRST MOMENT SHE LAID EYES ON MIYA OSAMU.** It’s an awards show hosted by one of the biggest networks in the country, and it’s certainly one of the year-end highlights that people from everywhere are looking forward to. Hitoka had been tuning her guitar in one of the hallways when he exited the dressing room and locked eyes with her. It didn’t feel like a moment that stilled the world, not at all. 

But then again, it’s not really the beginning of everything. Hitoka only remembers it because she wondered what it was like to dance in tight-fitting jeans without tripping over long legs. Osamu had been wearing tight jeans that day, causing Hitoka to almost apologize to him on behalf of his stylist. 

The start of everything didn’t feel like it at all. It happened in a studio in Sendai — Hitoka’s home turf if anyone asks her — she’d finished recording for her second EP when he walked into the studio where she’s mastering the track along with her producer. 

“Oh shit…” He brought a hand up to his nape, “Sorry I thought I got the right room.” 

Around that time, Osamu didn’t have the world screaming his name yet. Their group had only been in the limelight for a year and a half without much accomplishments to brag about. It had been a time where not knowing his name would be perfectly normal and wouldn’t guarantee a questioning look on everyone’s faces. 

Hitoka didn’t know his name by then. Her producer turned his chair around and greeted Osamu, saying nothing but praise for their debut album to which Osamu had been very grateful for. 

The accidental meeting in the studio turned into a songwriting session a few weeks later when Osamu returned to Sendai. The songwriting session turned into a few dates here and there, and those dates eventually became something more. 

If anyone asks her what Hitoka remembers the most about her relationship with Miya Osamu, it would be the songs that the two of them had written together. All of those songs engraved in the pages of the liner notes of their multiple albums and extended plays. Their relationship had been immortalized in these CDs and tracks and yet the world didn’t even know it. 

It feels like her best kept secret, and the most excruciating one to date. After all, she’s expected to sing her songs during concerts and music festivals — in a way, it’s like she’s being asked to relive the milestones in her previous relationship with Miya Osamu in front of the world while pretending that she’s fine. 

_ Then just sing the songs that aren’t about him.  _ Her best friend, Hinata Shoyou, had suggested to her once. Although the suggestion is very ideal, Hitoka couldn’t really remember a song that didn’t have any trace of Osamu in it. Not when she’d shared a year and a half of life with him, and had suffered through the hardships of trying to make it in the industry. Especially not when she fell in love with him so undeniably hard too. 

Hitoka tightens her grip on the neck of her guitar and furiously erases the previously written lyrics onto a spare piece of notepad lying around in her apartment. Creating extended plays used to be easygoing for her, like it’s what she’d been doing since she was born — it used to be as easy as breathing, but now it feels like a chore. She couldn’t seem to find the right words, or the right guitar chords. 

(Three hours ago she’d tried constructing this song on the piano, but all she could do is to lay her head over the piano keys, creating a sound that isn’t even good enough for a very low budget horror movie. An hour ago, she tried to create a proper bassline — one that would at least make a listener move their hips in appreciation, but she only ended up strumming the open string of her bass. She moved to the guitar as a last resort.) 

Begrudgingly, Hitoka glances at a polaroid of her and Osamu pinned to the corkboard by a transparent daisy push pin. The photo dates back to a year and three months ago, just a few months before their eventual breakup. It’s from one of the parties thrown by Osamu’s members — Kuroo Tetsurou, a tall guy who looked like he could break hearts for a living but actually just wants to hang out with all of his friends. They’re sitting on the couch with Hitoka’s legs dangling over Osamu’s lap, her head is nestled on his shoulder and he is pressing a kiss on the top of her head. 

To say that those were much simpler times would be a lie — they had to hide every single time. Their dates were spent in riverside parking lots with takeouts brought to them by curious delivery people who would wonder why they had to place the take out on the ground outside of the car. Movie dates became harder to do, and inevitably they had to resort to watching Netflix on Hitoka’s couch. But was Hitoka happier back then? The answer is a definitive yes. 

Hitoka sighs and decides that it’s time to give up on songwriting for the night. The guitar is carefully placed back on its stand and she moves back to the couch, turning the television on in hopes of finding inspiration in some brain rotting drama that people are going crazy for. 

But the TV is not showing a drama. It’s an ad that features none other than Hitoka’s ex boyfriend. As if rooted in place, she stares at the television — or Osamu’s face, to be more specific. He looks different on television, she notes. Too much of his features have been sharpened, made to look rough around the edges as opposed to the softness he exhibits when he’s looking at her in the middle of the night. 

Hitoka immediately turns the television off before the ad could even finish. 

_ Tell your brother to stop being everywhere.  _ She texts Atsumu, allowing the frustration to get to her. 

_ I’m sorry, Chichi.  _ Atsumu replies in lightning speed. The use of the nickname would have made her act up, but currently her mind is preoccupied in thoughts of what could have beens.

Hitoka doesn’t say anything more and instead finds herself sitting on the piano bench instead, fingers hovering over the keys unsure of whether a melody would even surface. She takes a deep breath and lets the keys sink into the wooden frame of the piano, creating a small sound as it descends. 

She could vaguely feel something rising up in her chest when she presses the keys, but she doesn’t do anything else. Just keeps on pressing the same two keys before slumping against the piano once again. 

On nights like these, when she has to keep her creativity flowing for a brand new EP, she would call Osamu and narrate how her day went. They would be on the phone for hours exchanging ideas here and there until there’s nothing but comfortable silence. Osamu’s breathing would be the only thing she could hear through the phone before he softly tells her how in love he is with her. 

The resulting warmth in her chest caused by steady beating of her heart is enough to allow her to write a few lines. Lines that are borne out of love and the inexplicable amount of joy she feels whenever Osamu breaks the silence with an  _ I love you _ . 

But Hitoka learned the hard way that keeping herself anchored on one person could be the very reason why she would lose herself. While the writer’s block is not extreme by any means, she found herself unable to write about anything or anyone else other than Osamu since their breakup. The notebook she usually carries with her that serves as a vault of ideas is slowly filled with nothing but feelings of heartbreak and longing. 

She wrote about Osamu’s favorite places and how she could never look at them the same way again. An example would be the 7-11 convenience store by the corner of the street. Osamu declared it to be the best 7-11 in all of Tokyo, since it has his favorite onigiri and it’s so close to Hitoka’s apartment. The reasons may seem shallow and superficial, but Hitoka had spent enough moments with him sitting on the chairs of the convenience store during the late hours of the night for her to know that it’s these little moments that made that small convenience store his favorite. 

As if his favorite convenience store is not enough, she wrote about the trip they made to Hyogo too. When he introduced her to his hometown, the places he frequented as a child, his family, his best friend’s rice field, and even his high school where he spent a lot of time playing volleyball with his twin brother. 

Hitoka would never dare visit Hyogo again, especially not the places Osamu took her to. She’d familiarized herself with the place enough to recite all of the precious memories he told her about without missing a beat. They could pass by Inarizaki High and Hitoka would immediately remember how he used to go to school without Atsumu in tow, only to be bombarded with a phone call where Atsumu would complain about how Osamu never woke him up on time. Or she could pass by the bakery and she would immediately know Osamu’s favorite bread and pastries. 

The vault of ideas that used to contain the fear of losing Osamu is already filled with words about heartbreak and longing and missing him. 

Hitoka laughs bitterly, not bothering to take her head off the piano keys. The world sure does have a funny way of reminding her that just because her career took off already, it doesn’t mean she’s invincible. 

-

**HINATA SHOYO IS BOTH AN OVERWHELMING AND COMFORTING PRESENCE IN HITOKA’S LIFE.** Sometimes Hinata would give her advice that would sound completely ridiculous at first, but would later on make sense when she finally thinks about it in depth. 

He has a funny way of describing Hitoka and Osamu’s relationship too. Calling it an over-but-not-over relationship that always confused Hitoka. The first time Atsumu heard about the description, he cackled and agreed almost immediately. 

Great. As if her constant thoughts about Osamu is not enough. 

She’s lying on her stomach on Hinata’s bed while he’s busy playing some shooting game with his boyfriend, famous streamer Kodzuken who earns a shit ton of money from just one game alone. During the days where Hitoka is questioning her career choices, she would think of Kodzuken — or Kenma — and how he’s able to earn money through his games. 

If she’s still unable to fill her new EP with songs that are good enough for her, then maybe it’s high time she retires from the music industry altogether to be a streamer and bank on her inability to properly play games. It would be her marketing strategy; Yachi Hitoka, the horrible gamer. 

She’d just have to mentally prepare herself for the roasts she will receive online. But hey, if it pays the bills then it’s definitely worth it, right? 

“Don’t you have anything better to do, Yachi?” Shoyo’s voice is drowned out by the sound of gunfire in the game, but it’s clear enough for Yachi to realize that he’s not so shyly pointing out her lack of proper social interaction or hobbies. 

“I don’t.” She answers a little more force than she’d like, “I mean… I’m supposed to be writing but there’s not much to write. So maybe I could get some ideas here.” 

The game ends and Yachi could vaguely hear the words  _ defenders win  _ right before the tune of  _ his  _ voice echoes throughout the entire room. Somehow, Osamu Miya’s voice is louder than the voice of the game from a while ago. 

“Shit!” Shoyo scrambles for the headphone jack, but due to the abundance of wires in his very unorganized computer table, the advertisement lasts long enough for Hitoka to hear it in all its entirety. 

“Kenma! Hitoka’s here!” 

“Oh shit I forgot. Sorry about that, Hitoka.” 

Now Hitoka wishes that they never did this. Like they’re walking on eggshells around her. Just because she and Osamu broke up, doesn’t mean that it’s still a huge gaping wound in the middle of her chest. 

Besides, how else would she move on if everyone purposefully makes it obvious that they are trying to erase all traces of Osamu? 

(As if they could. He’s in one of the biggest boy groups in the world. It’s simply impossible to erase him out of all the traces of the internet in the world.) 

“It’s fine. It doesn’t really matter.” Hitoka shrugs, feigning nonchalance as she scrolls through her boring social media timelines. 

Despite the large amount of followers that she has, her timeline is only really limited to a select few people. All of them people from the industry and a select few people from Miyagi whom she still cares enough to be updated on. 

Much to Hitoka’s dismay, no amount of updates from her friends back in high school are distracting enough to keep her thoughts about her ex boyfriend at bay. Prior to this day, she hadn’t really been doing better in terms of forgetting Miya Osamu, but it’s considerably better than her current state now. 

If Hitoka plays the blame game, she could blame it all on the EP she’s trying to write. This would be the first time she’d ever have to write another song without Osamu helping her, whether it’s for the lyrics, the mixing and mastering, or just for moral support. Suffice to say that this is an EP she would be doing entirely by herself in terms of pre-production. 

She wishes that she had much more control of her emotions instead of being a fool all the damn time. 

“Hey Hitoka,” Kenma asks, his voice echoing in the room through the speakers of Shoyo’s computer, “Do you think you can write a song about PUBG for your new EP?”

Hitoka groans in frustration. 

-

**USUALLY HITOKA WOULD NEVER EVEN CONSIDER WORKING ON KENMA’S SUGGESTION,** but her brain’s power had significantly decreased and she thinks that she’s cursed to be in this perpetual stage of brain rot for the rest of her life. So she does a feeble attempt at rescuing her creative brain cells in the form of actually writing a song about PlayerUnknown’s Battlegrounds. 

The apartment is a safe space and therefore, there is absolutely no reason for Hitoka to feel flustered and embarrassed as she plugs in her electric bass to the amplifier, followed by the reverberating sound of the PUBG opening theme playing from her phone. If she’s going to write something about PUBG, then she’s gotta start somewhere right? 

It hits her randomly after a few bars of the track, that PUBG just so happens to be one of Osamu’s favorite games to play. That it’s something he used to beg her to play just so they could duo with each other and take home the chicken dinner. 

The theme rings through her apartment, but her bass is already discarded on the couch. In her hand is her phone, hovering over Miya Osamu’s number. Yachi Hitoka never falls victim to impulse decisions, not even when she’d received her first paycheck back when she first signed with a record label. So even with Osamu’s number directly in her face, she doesn’t press the call or message button. 

The last conversation she ever had with him had been well over a year ago, just a few days after their break up when Osamu showed up in front of her apartment to take some of the things he’d left. Back then, Hitoka wondered why he didn’t ask for her to ship it to him instead — she knew his address anyway. But Hitoka fancied herself a scenario where maybe — just maybe — Osamu wanted to see her again, even if it’s for just a few minutes. 

After that, they never really talked, or saw each other for that matter. Hitoka made it a point to avoid him during award shows, and then they never really had any common places to meet after. She’d been busy performing in different music festivals, and his group is having a tour all over the world like the legends they are. 

So the thought of Osamu having the same number from a year ago seems incredibly impossible. There are so many reasons for him to change it, and there are even more reasons for Hitoka to not dial or even think about texting the number. 

She sets her phone down on the couch and plays Somebody Else by The 1975. Sorrow fills her apartment, armed with the voice of one Matty Healy, her own voice mixing in with his, and her bass guitar providing support to the already-heart-wrenching melody the song has. 


	2. thinking about

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It’s a balance that’s unrivalled and certainly more refined than any other people Hitoka had worked with. No one could make her simple ideas and words bloom as much as Osamu could, and no one could provide grandeur to Osamu’s simplicity like she could. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> unedited because i'm too tired FDKKFDHF maybe i'll edit when i wake up... or maybe never. anyways come talk to me on twt: @chihayasee !

_[ thinking about - lauren aquilina ]_

_-_

**WHILE THERE’S NO SET DEADLINE FOR THE EP, HITOKA FEELS AS THOUGH SHE SHOULD GET IT DONE WITHOUT SLACKING OFF TOO MUCH.** She’s never a fan of slacking off and leaving everything to the last minute, preferring the security of having everything done right away to make room for revisions or any last minute ideas that could make the state of her EP better. 

But the current state of writer’s block makes her feel as though the EP wouldn’t come for at least a year. Never had she felt as though she stuck in a deep rut like this before. Usually, Hitoka is overflowing with ideas in an intensity that she couldn’t quite run away from even if she’d tried. 

Most of her songs had been written in the refuge of her one bedroom apartment, where she’d sit on her couch for hours with unbreaking concentration while the floor is covered in a mess of wires with all her instruments out in the open. 

During those days, she feels as though her inspiration and concentration is blinding. Giving her a tunnel-vision that would usually open up to a completion of a brand new extended play or album. It’s always followed by exhilaration as she writes the contents of her album liner notes, complete with little doodles that she’s sure the fans would find adorable. 

Hitoka wishes that there is never a limit to those days — that she could just summon them at will for when she wants to work on something new. Suffering through a writer’s block like this is certainly not what she wants in any shape or form. 

The blonde groans and delivers a harsh tap to her amplifier (a milkman amplifier in a nice yellow shade, a gift from Osamu that she received during their first Christmas together), maybe she’ll get a few lyrics coming soon.

It’s not an exaggeration to say that Hitoka had already exhausted all efforts possible when it comes to writing a song, but all she could think about is the stupid- _ stupid  _ smile of her ex boyfriend from the advertisement on her television. Other than that, she couldn’t seem to get any word out that could convey something other than the current blank yet confused state of her soul. 

She tried to search for inspiration in the streets of Tokyo and even went as far as to trying to book a plane ticket to Sendai — which she eventually decided against. She comes home to her mother’s apartment twice a month, or whenever she feels inexplicably bored. There’s no guarantee that she’ll find inspiration there when she’s always there, almost like she never really left. 

However, her desperation is still at an all time high and she still has absolutely no idea how to go back to her usual carefree songwriting. Try as she might to relive the same excitement she used to feel whenever she’s writing something new, everything seems to fall apart the moment she places the tip of the pen on the paper. All of her ideas, regardless of how bad they may be, float away and dissolve into nothing but thoughts of longing the moment she tries to get a single word written down on paper. 

Hitoka thinks that she should just accept this fate laid out for her instead of trying to force herself to write. Maybe she’s supposed to be wallowing in her own pathetic pining all by herself without the aid of songwriting to help her get these set of feelings out as a sickening punishment from the universe. But even if that’s the case, she doesn’t understand why it has to be  _ her  _ of all people. 

All she’d ever done is to try and make life easier for her and Osamu. Why must she be on the shorter end of the stick? Why is she the only one going through the seemingly perpetual pain of yearning while he’s travelling all over the world probably meeting different people who can keep up with the fast paced lifestyle he’s leading? 

Okay maybe she doesn’t know if that’s exactly what he’s doing, but it’s the vague idea that made the most sense to her. What else could he be doing while he’s on tour? Of course he’s going to meet new people everywhere, a lot of people are interested in their group and have grown to love their music. It only makes so much sense that those people would make themselves known to him. 

Hitoka groans again, turning her amplifier off and placing her guitar haphazardly on the floor of her apartment. At the moment, she’s certain that she couldn’t care less if it gets scratched — but then again she’s sure that she’s going to regret it later if she actually does find a single sign of abrasion on the instrument. 

She lies face down on the couch with her hand tucked underneath one of the couch pillows that smelled like her fabric softener, the very same one she knows Osamu uses. While the recurring thoughts of Osamu usually left a bittersweet taste on her tongue, she couldn’t help but to snuggle closer to the pillow. 

A few minutes pass before she finds it in herself to get up and take her phone from where it sat on the table. One thing that Hitoka likes about herself is how she always makes sure to stash even the little bits and pieces of conversation in her head. With that, she proceeds to send a text message to one of her high school seniors who’s in town for a while. 

_ Alright. I’ll see you in a bit, Yachi!  _ The text comes easily and Hitoka finally moves from her place on the couch to wash up and get ready. 

It’s been a long time since she’d seen Sugawara Koushi and she doesn’t want him to think that she’s a loser at first glance. She should at least give Suga the impression that she’s doing well before breaking the news to him that she’s stuck in a writing block and couldn’t get out. 

Hitoka’s album sales are good enough to guarantee her a proper car, yet she stayed away from buying cars altogether. It’s not as though she doesn’t trust herself behind the steering wheel (everyone knows she’d driven Osamu back to his apartment multiple times when he had way too much to drink from the parties they’d gone to), but more so that she likes being lost in the crowd. She loves the reminder that she’s just a speck of dust within the vast expanse of the universe, and that there will always be something bigger than her. 

She takes the train as usual and doesn’t encounter any problem at all on the way to her destination. For today, it’s Shinjuku as Sugawara had some business to take care of in the area. Hitoka is more than happy to go out of her way to go to him seeing as there’s nothing else for her to do anyway. 

The cafe they’d chosen seems to be quite the hotspot for busy office workers, but Hitoka doesn’t mind at all. The background noise soothes her. Peace in chaos, as she calls it. It takes ten minutes of waiting before Sugawara Koushi arrives in front of her, donned in his casual clothes. He looks like he never aged a day beyond high school. 

“Hey Yachi.” He greets with a smile. 

“Hey yourself! How’ve you been?” The smile is easily returned, with her lips working up to a grin as she takes in the appearance of her friend. 

“I’m alright, though I can’t say the same for Daichi.” He laughs, referring to one of their friends as well as his boyfriend back in Miyagi. 

“How’s the coach life going for him?” Hitoka leans forward, propping her chin on her hand. 

“The kids love him, and he loves them right back, don't get me wrong. They’re just a bit… too energetic for him.” Sugawara laughs. 

Yachi shakes her head, “If anyone can handle a bunch of grade schoolers, it’ll be him. After all, he  _ was  _ the captain of Karasuno High’s Volleyball Team. Anyone knows that you guys are rowdier than a bunch of grade school kids combined.” 

She reaches to take a sip of her coffee but is interrupted by an all-too-familiar song blaring through the cafe speakers. It’s a song she’d heard one too many times in a span of three years. The very song that Osamu’s group started with, one that held too many significant memories and sentimental value. 

Her hands start to shake and Hitoka quickly places the mug down on the table before she could spill hot coffee all over her sweater. From the corner of her eye, she sees Sugawara’s gaze narrowing on her. She’d been caught. 

“Spill it, Hitoka.” There’s curiosity edging from the gentle glance he’s giving her. It’s the very same look he’d given her back in high school when she told him that she had a crush on Shimizu Kiyoko. 

It’s almost like he’s the same Sugawara back in high school, yet completely different. His presence is calming though, that’s for sure. Hitoka sighs and mindlessly fidgets with the ends of her sweater. 

“I can’t seem to write anything. I’ve been stuck in this writing block for so long and I thought… I thought that after that avalanche of music festivals I went to for the past year, I’d be able to move on from him and forget everything but… I was wrong.” As if she’d forgotten her manager’s constant reminder to look appropriate every single time when she’s in public, she places her head on the table, pillowed by her hands. 

“Lately all I keep about is Osamu Osamu Osamu Osamu. The idiot even had the audacity to appear on my TV and now his song is playing in this coffee shop of all places?” Her words are strung together mindlessly and spoken too quickly for anyone else to comprehend. She’s just glad that it’s Sugawara listening at this point. If it were Hinata or Atsumu, they would have to ask her to repeat herself all over again. 

Sugawara’s chuckle from across the table annoys her more than she thought it would. She glares at him and straightens herself back up on her chair. 

“You know Yachi, I think you should stop trying to write things that you don’t have the heart to write for. It’s that easy.” There’s a knowing smirk on his face that annoys Hitoka and confuses her at the same time. 

“What do you mean?” 

“I think we both know what you could write about. For some reason you’re just  _ afraid  _ to do it.” 

-

**SUGAWARA’S ADVICE IS TOO VAGUE AND TOO MUCH FOR HITOKA’S BRAIN TO COMPREHEND.** Hitoka had gone through several explanations in her head and even tried to get into the headspace of one Sugawara Koushi, but to no avail did she find a proper explanation to his answer. 

Out of frustration, she takes a taxi to the studio after calling a close friend. Regardless of the reason, Hitoka and him are close enough that she’s welcome in his studio anytime as long as she calls him first instead of bursting through the doors of his studio like it’s hers. 

(There had been an instance where Osamu barged into Akaashi Keiji’s studio, only to walk in on him making out with his boyfriend. That’s the start of the mandate to call before going, much to the dismay and amusement of Osamu.)

The studio is small yet comfortable. It’s not as spacious as people usually think, but Akaashi has stated multiple times that he doesn’t want a space that’s too big or else he’d feel too uncomfortable to work. After that, no other reporter or member of the press had asked songwriter and producer Akaashi Keiji about his studio space again. 

“What brings you here?” Keiji asks, not even looking when she enters the studio. 

“I  _ need  _ to write.” She plops down on one of the leather couches near the mixing console, taking out a spare notebook that she managed to grab at the last minute just before she’d left a while ago. 

“Then write. What’s stopping you?” Again, he doesn’t even look away from his work. By the looks of it, he’s going through several demos in his files. Hitoka assumes that someone had tapped him for another collaboration yet again. 

“I can’t write. I can’t do it. My brain’s malfunctioning and all I ever do is think about stupid,  _ stupid  _ Osamu and his annoying smile and… God I hate it here.” She sighs, dramatically falling on the couch with her head on the armrest. 

The office chair swivels around, revealing Akaashi Keiji with a really bad case of dark under eye circles. Hitoka makes a mental note not to piss him off today. It’s pretty much common knowledge that a sleep deprived Keiji is the one you should never piss off under any circumstances. But she also knew that he had quite the soft spot for her. 

“Miya Osamu’s still in your brain rent free, huh?” Hitoka would have called him out on the use of internet lingo in a real life conversation if he didn’t sound so  _ serious.  _

“Yeah. Unfortunately.” She bites her lip and pulls out her ponytail, allowing her blonde hair to fall over her shoulders. “My thoughts are just… all about him and I couldn’t seem to get him out of my head. And you know it’s like the universe is playing a huge ass prank on me too because they keep on showing his commercials and playing his songs.” 

Hitoka is aware that it almost sounds like she’s about to cry, but she really couldn’t care less about crying in front of Keiji. What troubles her more is how she thought she’d managed to get by with her leftover feelings just fine. She didn’t expect to be so very wrong 

“So you don’t want to think about him? At all?” Keiji raises an eyebrow at her. 

“Nope. Not ever.” Hitoka adamantly shakes her head. There’s too much on her plate right now and she couldn’t afford to think about Osamu and her heartbreak when there’s an extended play waiting to be built from scratch. 

“Ever thought about writing a song about not… thinking about Osamu?” She takes note of how Keiji says the latter part with care, almost like he’s stepping on eggshells. Hitoka doesn’t like it, not one bit, but she’s grateful anyway that her friend cares. 

“Well… not really no.” She admits. 

“You always look at some grand picture in front of you instead of just working with the little things. That’s one of the things that Osamu excelled in. It’s why your works with him are easily made.” Keiji points out and it feels like a figurative punch to the gut. 

One of the best things about Osamu’s songwriting is his ability to turn something mundane into a completely extraordinary piece. Starting from the flow of his words down to the way the instruments work together to form the soul of the song. Osamu’s simplicity in his work is the complete opposite of Hitoka’s process where she thinks of something much bigger than what’s in front of her. 

It’s a balance that’s unrivalled and certainly more refined than any other people Hitoka had worked with. No one could make her simple ideas and words bloom as much as Osamu could, and no one could provide grandeur to Osamu’s simplicity like she could. 

The fact that a break up is what disrupted their balance and workflow hurts more than it should. Hitoka did not only lose a significant other, she lost one of the best people to create something with. 

“He really does have a way of making things seem better than they are, huh?” A fond smile appears on her lips as she looks at the booth with memories rushing back like a river in flames. 

“I thought that by now you’d function the same way as he does, or maybe have a few of his habits rub off on you. I was wrong, though.” He’s writing something down on a piece of paper. Hitoka couldn’t make out what the handwriting says due to the distance, so she hopes that he’ll show her what it is instead. 

“No thanks,” Hitoka laughs, “Osamu has a  _ lot  _ of habits I do not want to rub off on me. Like his swearing, he swears like a goddamn sailor all the time. Sometimes it rubs off on me and I don’t realize it until someone’s pointing out that I have sworn multiple times in  _ one  _ statement.” 

“Be thankful it’s Osamu’s swearing that rubbed off on you, though. If it were Atsumu’s, then people would have been casting you annoyed looks left and right.” Keiji is still writing on the paper, but there’s a shift in his demeanor now. 

Hitoka figures that the mood has lightened significantly with their short trip back to memory lane. “Sometimes ‘Samu is just as bad if you catch him on certain days.” 

“Do you ever regret it?” Keiji’s tone turns quiet. Hitoka couldn’t quite trust her hearing but she thinks she heard his voice falter for a bit. 

“Not at all. He’s… he’s the best person I ever met.” The smile on her face doesn’t fade, but her cheeks feel heavy and her toes are curling from inside her boots. 

“Come on, Keiji. Ask me those prompt generating questions you always do before we write something.” Hitoka takes the seat next to him by the console and bumps their shoulders just light enough for him to realize her request. 

“I already am.” 

“Oh… well go on then.” 

“Did you really come here because you wanted to write? Or because you needed an escape from all your Osamu thoughts?” His gaze is piercing deep into Hitoka’s soul and she almost shivers if it weren’t for her self control. 

“Both? I guess?”  _ Huh.  _ Alright. Maybe she came here for a distraction, but it’s only second to needing a song or even a random demo from other people for her extended play. Now is not the time to pine over an ex in a boy group who’s probably not thinking about her anyway. 

As always, Hitoka is on the losing battle. Even in her most desperate attempts to write a song, he’s still the only one in her mind.

She peers over Keiji’s shoulder and there are a few lyrics written down, describing Hitoka’s situation with Osamu and how it seems to be completely messing up her life. If Hitoka didn’t know Keiji at all, she’d think about how eccentric his songwriting process is. But now she understands that Keiji views music as a diary, as a way to mirror the soul of different people. 

He slides the piece of paper and Hitoka chews on the tip of her pen before adding a few words in. And although she wishes that she could have done more, Keiji asks her to leave. 

“Okay Hitoka it’s time for you to go.” He stands up from his chair, retrieving her things from the leather couch before handing it to her. 

“Wait what? I haven’t even warmed the seat of that chair with my butt! How are you going to make me leave now?” 

“Just… trust me on thi—” 

The door opens and Miya Osamu, of all people, walks in. 

“Hey Keiji so I was thinking maybe we could work on that dem— oh.” 

For the first time since the day he came to pick up all his stuff from her apartment, Hitoka locks eyes with Osamu. Her stomach churns in a sickeningly in love way that makes her want to sink into the ground, never to be seen again. She could feel her cheeks heating up as she stared at him with wide eyes and parted lips. 

“Hey Hitoka.” Despite her hatred for her habit of nitpicking everything, she thanks that habit of hers today as she could pinpoint the difference between his greeting now and his greeting from before. Osamu always says her name gently — so kind and soft that it’s enough to release butterflies in her stomach. 

The way he greets her now sounds unsure. But could she really blame him? They’re standing across one another in a small studio with nothing but silence. They’re looking at each other for the first time too. It’s the kind of situation that calls for uncertainty and internal panic sessions (like the one Hitoka is currently going through right now). 

“I uhh… yeah I’m gonna go.” Hitoka mumbles, walking past him with her things gathered in her arms. His perfume is still the same perfume he’d been using back when they were together. His clothes still smell like the fabric softener they both like. The way he carries himself is different too, like how his shoulders are more rounded in on themselves, or how his face just screams tired instead of his usual deadpan demeanor. 

Hitoka tries her best to ignore everything about him, but really, at this point it feels like the universe is playing a huge joke on her. 

-

**IN HER PHONE IS A RECORDING OF THE FIRST SONG SHE WROTE FOR HER NEW EXTENDED PLAY.** It’s a ballad, played with only the piano and her voice to amplify the already flowing melody of the piano chords. 

Sugawara Koushi is right, and so is Akaashi Keiji, maybe writing about certain things is better than trying to force herself to see a bigger picture. 

_ All I’m thinking about is not thinking about you.  _ She sings one more time, with her fingers moving gracefully on the piano, her heart pouring out through every single word she lets out with her voice. 

Despite the song’s message and her silly thought that maybe finally writing one song would make her thoughts about Osamu go away, she still falls asleep that night with an image of Osamu being the last thing she sees on her phone before she drifts into slumber. 


	3. closer

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In the absence of Osamu, Hitoka had learned three things. First is that doing household chores by herself is oddly therapeutic. Second is how it’s possible to be able to pinpoint a song after hearing it for just one second. Third and last is that it is never, and it will never be, a crime to choose oneself. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sacrificed sleep just to finish this chapter. this is meant to be shorter than the others too. also there's like fhdkhfkd a lot of subtext here i Just hope that it's easy to like.. determine or whatever. but if it's not the future chapters will clue in more to the subtexts as well. so yeah.

_[ closer - made in la ]_

_**-** _

**OSAMU LINGERS IN HER MIND LIKE THE REMNANTS OF A PERFUME ON HER CLOTHES.** Hitoka couldn’t quite shake the look on his face away from her brain no matter how hard she’d tried. Even if it happened a few days ago, she could still remember the familiar heat from their close proximity. If she closes her eyes, she would start to remember what it feels like to lie down next to him on the bed with their arms around one another. 

She’d forgiven Keiji for not telling her, of course. It’s her own fault for suddenly showing up in his studio anyway, with nothing but a call to prelude the events. Knowing Keiji, it must’ve slipped his mind that Osamu was coming the moment Hitoka came into the studio to whine about her lovelorn woes. 

In the end, it’s just the way things turned out with no one else to blame but the sick and twisted universe that somehow loves to make Hitoka suffer. If Hitoka had the chance to meet the universe and stare it down in the face, she would make sure to yell out the foulest of words (the ones she’d learned from the Miya twins of course — no one could swear like those two) and maybe give it a big slap on the face. 

All she wants is to finish her EP in time to give her fans a nice little tour before the year ends, and maybe completely move on from Miya Osamu. But the universe seemed to have different plans and gave her the nastiest of writer’s blocks and even arranged a not-so-chance encounter for the two of them. Suffice to say that not a single plan of Hitoka is going well this year. 

But at least she managed to write  _ one  _ song ready for polishing and mixing. She texted Keiji the demo she’d recorded by herself in her bedroom (one she’d recorded after crying twice), and Keiji responded with a  _ thank god  _ before asking her to drop by the studio in a week so they could work on the final track together. 

What she hates about this is how the song wouldn’t have been made possible without Osamu. That her resolve had to be shattered almost completely in order for her to produce something that she’s sort of happy about. The irony of it all only brings dismay for Hitoka. 

She finally gets up from her bed and makes her way to the kitchen with slouched shoulders and sleepy eyes when she locks eyes with a photo of her and Osamu on her refrigerator. 

“You’re everywhere, huh?” Hitoka’s stare is locked on photo-Osamu, whose arms are wrapped around her waist from behind. His head resting on her shoulder, eyes fixated on her as she grins widely with her eyes closed. 

Feeling the hunger go away, she immediately steps out of the kitchen to lounge in the living room instead. She imagines what it would be like if Osamu is here, how he would react to Hitoka skipping meals, or the length of time that she couldn’t write a proper song. If he’s here, he would be sitting on the couch and she’d be on the floor with her back between his legs. He’d probably play with her hair, maybe even braiding it if he’s feeling like it. Or maybe he would place his arms over her shoulders, his chest near her ears where she could hear the beating of his heart. 

Hitoka allows herself to imagine this for now. Maybe it’s okay to miss him sometimes, it’s part of the process anyway — she thinks. She allows herself to feel the warmth of his chest against her back, the feel of his heartbeat near her ears, — a reminder that he loves her and her only — the way his arms weigh over her shoulders, and how comfortable his chin would feel on top of her head. 

She would be lying if she says that she doesn’t miss all of this or  _ him _ at all. All she’s done for the past few days is to think about his absence and how it doesn’t feel right that she couldn’t feel him anywhere near her. The perpetual numbness and pain simultaneously wrecking her chest would have wrecked her daily routine if she ever had one, but all forms of routine had already left when Osamu left her life as well. 

It doesn’t help that life as an indie singer involves a lot of tours and late night travels to strange places in order to perform, if not touring then it’s the endless writing and recording in order to ensure that the dream stays alive. The lifestyle itself screams  _ lack of routine whatsoever,  _ but the break up with Osamu is only the cherry on top of the mess that is her life. 

The fact that this is the way Hitoka feels right now is honestly so pathetic to her, but she prides herself on being someone who does not hide from her feelings no matter how pathetic they may be. The honesty that she prides herself on having is the one thing that allows herself to write the way she always has: raw and sincere. It's the main reason as to why she could get all her emotions across when it comes to the songs she'd written — including the one song she recently wrote that’s about him, even if she doesn’t want it to be about him. 

While she sits on the floor of her living room, imagining the presence of Miya Osamu with her, she feels her shoulders shake and soon enough the waterworks follow. Meeting him again feels like boulders thrown straight to her chest. It’s like the weight of missing him has suddenly doubled over the moment she locked eyes with him in Keiji’s goddamn studio. 

All she could do is to look blankly at the empty space in her living room while all the pent up frustrations and feelings burst out of her chest, almost like its spewing out multitudes of colors — all different shades of blue; lonely yet inviting in its calmness. 

-

**HITOKA LOOKS AT THE BLUR OUTSIDE THE WINDOW OF THE TRAIN AS IT SPEEDS TOWARDS THE STOP CLOSEST TO HER MOTHER’S PLACE.** Even if she’d spent all those years in Tokyo, Miyagi still feels like a breath of fresh air. Her comfort place when everything is a mess inside her head. The feel of the train rumbling as it moves over the tracks feels so familiar under her feet that she couldn’t help but to breathe out a sigh of relief. 

While all the feeling of being at home pretty much left the moment she broke up with Osamu, being back in Sendai gives her a feeling close enough to that. 

Miyagi is also the one place she could effortlessly separate from her thoughts and memories of him, because even though she’d brought him and even met him here for the first time, the place holds too many memories for them to be overwhelmed with the ones involving Osamu. 

The place holds precious memories of her friends from back in high school, the people who made her stronger over the years. The people who helmed her into the person she is now, from a girl who’s afraid of facing the world to someone who fearlessly sings the contents of her mind to thousands of people in the crowd. In here, she feels as though she’s untouchable, invincible to anything and everything that could hurt her. 

She opens the door of her mother’s place and the smell of tamagoyaki wafts through the air. Hitoka laughs, recalling a time when her mother couldn’t even be seen in front of a stove yet here they are. 

Yachi Madoka has toned down on the micromanaging of her company recently, insisting that all she’d ever done is work and now that her baby girl is an adult, there’s no need for her to worry about Hitoka’s expenses. But even then, Hitoka is well aware that her mother still discreetly deposits money into her bank account occasionally. . 

“I’m home.” Hitoka immediately slides her feet out of her sneakers in favor of her house slippers with a bunny design. A slipper chosen by Hinata back when they were out strolling through Sendai, trying to rediscover their hometown despite coming back often to visit their respective families. 

“Ah how’s my baby girl doing?” Madoka immediately takes Hitoka into her arms. Despite being a full grown adult, Hitoka is still considerably shorter than her mother. Her mother, standing tall at five foot six while she’s barely even over five feet. Hitoka likes it though, because it feels safe being hugged by her mother like that.

A sharp intake of breath, “I…” She trails off and sighs, sinking down on the nearest counter stool. “How do you  _ not  _ miss dad?” 

“Oh honey your father sucks.” Madoka laughs, turning off the stove and hanging her apron back on the wall hook. “You miss your ex don’t you?” 

“Mom, you sound like a high school girl.” Hitoka groans. 

“Just cherishing my youth while it’s still here. Anyway, tell me what’s bothering you. I know you came back home because it’s getting to you. You’re not supposed to visit today, you know.” 

“You’re right though,” Hitoka laughs, “I do miss him. I saw him a few days ago in Keiji’s studio and… he just changed so much, Mom! He looks so tired and worn out and I’m honestly kind of worried and I would ask him how he’s doing if I wasn't such a chicken and if I wasn’t too busy trying to stop myself from missing him.” Her words flow so quickly that they almost blend into one another. 

Thank god that habit is something she got from Madoka. 

“Mhm how did that feel?” 

“Like the world just collapsed all over my shoulder. That’s the first time I’ve seen him up close since the day he took his stuff from my apartment and uhh… it feels too familiar that it makes me want to just… hug him.” A dejected expression covers Hitoka’s face, and Madoka is quick to take the seat beside hers. 

“Remind me again why you two broke up…” 

“I couldn’t do it, Mom. It's just… the line between our relationship and what we’re supposed to show to the public… I couldn’t do it. It’s just too much. Everything… like the whole break up… thing… it’s like it’s been dawning on me and him the moment they blew up.” Truthfully, Hitoka feels as though she’s selfish for breaking up with him. But she knows that it’s the right decision for the both of them. 

Even if she misses him, even if his memories are constantly haunting her, Hitoka has grown stronger. She knows that if she didn’t break up with Osamu, their relationship would only escalate into something much worse. It’s the best choice to save the both of them from the worst pain. 

In the absence of Osamu, Hitoka had learned three things. First is that doing household chores by herself is oddly therapeutic. Second is how it’s possible to be able to pinpoint a song after hearing it for just one second. Third and last is that it is never, and it will never be, a crime to choose oneself. 

The pain of their breakup is accompanied by relief. 

“Hmm… I see…” Madoka’s looking at Hitoka like she’s one of the design elements she’s trying to criticize. Hitoka almost shudders under the gaze of her mother. 

“Are you still in love with him?” 

The question throws Hitoka off-guard. No one dared to ask her that question, not even Atsumu or Hinata who couldn’t care less about filtering words with her. It’s not really something she thought about before, not even when she’s writing Thinking About. 

Desperately, Hitoka tries to wrack her brain for a proper answer, but all she could ever do is to stammer beside her mother very much like the nervous high school girl she used to be. 

Madoka laughs, stands up from her chair and walks to the living room while calling out: “You don’t have to answer anymore. We both know it anyway.” 

And she’s right, Hitoka knows full well that she doesn’t even need to say it out loud. She still loves Osamu, she wouldn’t be here if she didn't. 


	4. maybe

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Suddenly, standing next to him in this stuffy recording booth feels both suffocating and endearing. Even with the space in between them, she could still feel his presence that’s so close to her — like they never had to spend some time apart from each other in the first place. 
> 
> It’s scary for Hitoka to be in here with him. All she wants is proper closure, not a sudden wave of feelings pulling her in like the tides. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i just hope that whoever's reading this knows that i yelled about 759475975x while reading this chapter because they're so HFKDHFKHDKFHDHFDH that's all

_[ maybe - luna luna, lael ]_

-

**AS PER USUAL,** Hitoka is situated on her couch once more with her instruments scattered all over the floor and her notebook propped on her thighs. One song is simply not enough to complete an extended play, and to be quite honest, she’s not even sure if she wants _that_ song to be her lead single. It sounds too melancholic, too sad for her tastes. She doesn’t want to let the world know just how much she’s pining for something that isn’t quite there anymore. 

Then again, it’s the kind of music a lot of people find solace in. It’s what people listen to when they’re alone in the middle of the night with only sadness and longing to accompany them. Hitoka could remember days where it’s her in the very same position, listening to sad songs under the light of the moon shining through her window. 

Hitoka could trace every single event in her life with music, whether it be her first heartbreak or the very first all-consuming love that she’d felt. Knowing that her music might be out there becoming a form of solace and companion to people all around the world eases away the pain of her pining. But still, she doesn’t know if she wants that to be her _lead_ single. 

Having to share a part of her heart that broke to the rest of the world to headline her brand new extended play feels like something she couldn’t handle. The previous year had been spent touring in different festivals, singing all the songs she wrote with Osamu to thousands of people with no idea about how those songs came to be. 

It feels like she’s going through pain and heartbreak all by herself while the rest of the world watched her with adoring eyes. 

In a small moment of weakness, Hitoka changes her phone’s wallpaper back to a photo of her and Osamu taken in a ferris wheel to celebrate their 4th month of dating. Time feels like it’s stuck in a single moment as she relives the memory vividly in her mind. Osamu holding her hand. Osamu taking the picture and catching her off guard by planting a kiss on the side of her head. The butterflies fluttering around her stomach. The overwhelming feeling of being consumed with nothing but love and affection — and home. It feels like home. 

“Hitoka you really need to get a grip on yourself.” Reminding herself like this anchors her to the present. The reality that she should move on and not spend her days pining after Miya Osamu. 

But how could she after that chance encounter with him? He looks so tired and she feels the air being taken away from her lungs at the sudden realization that he’s probably overworked with no one to take care of him. Yes he has friends and they’re all there for him without a single doubt, but do they know about Osamu’s habit of exerting himself to the extreme? Do they know how he would spend nights watching his practice videos over and over again, trying to see where he went wrong? Do they know that he would over analyze every single lyric to a few of the songs he’d written for the group in order for it to fit the group image as well as their narrative? Do they know that Miya Osamu has the worst inferiority complex known to man? She doesn’t think so. Osamu always had trouble letting people in. 

The only exception to Osamu’s high walls around his heart would be his twin brother, Akaashi, his members, and maybe Hitoka. It’s probably wishful thinking at this point, but still, she has to give herself a bit of credit that he let her in. Osamu is no difficult person by any means, but there is always an evident barrier between him and people whenever they interact. Hitoka noticed that from the get go. 

She just hopes that Osamu wouldn’t have to overexert himself again, or at least has learned how to take care of himself better after their breakup. 

“You’re not gonna meet Samu if you keep staring at his picture like that.” 

Miya Atsumu is, first and foremost, annoying. But hearing his annoying voice in her apartment sends Hitoka into a flurry of panic. 

“How the fuck did you get in here?” She shrieks, looking at Atsumu who’s standing in her doorway, her door left wide open as he leans against the doorframe. 

“Door’s unlocked. I’ve been ringing the doorbell for several minutes but you weren’t coming so I decided to try and see if the door would open and it did. Did you miss me?” Miya Atsumu snickers before letting himself into her apartment, taking off his shoes in favor of walking around Yachi’s place barefooted. 

“Why are you here?” It’s not like Hitoka doesn’t want him there, she actually appreciates it when her friends visit her, but this out of the blue visit from Atsumu feels a little weird. Or maybe she’s just overthinking it. 

“I haven’t visited you in a while, Yacchan. I feel like a bad friend for letting you wallow in sadness all by your lonesome.” He takes a seat on the couch next to her, and there’s at least a feeling of comfort that settles with him. 

Apart from being annoying, Atsumu is actually a great friend. She didn’t expect that their friendship would still be this strong even after her break up with Osamu. She thought that once Osamu leaves her life, Atsumu would too and so would the rest of the friends she’d met through him. But none of them disappeared and they still send messages to Hitoka every now and then, asking her what’s up and how she’s doing. 

At least there are a few less people to lose apart from Osamu. 

“For your information, I’m not wallowing in sadness. I’m just writing songs.” She huffs, and stuffs her phone in between the couch cushions just so Atsumu’s point wouldn’t be proven right. 

“Mmm and how’s that going for you?” His face conveyed curiosity. 

Hitoka considers asking him for help, but then remembers that Atsumu is built for volleyball and not songwriting. If she wanted songwriting help, then she’d go to the other twin. 

“Well I have _one_ song completed but it’s not enough to launch a brand new extended play, you know? I’ll have to write some more.” She shrugs, downplaying the fact that she’s been struggling with writing for so long. 

“At least you’re not struggling with writing, that’s good to hear. I know Samu hasn’t been writing songs very well since… you know.” His voice drops, almost like he’s walking on eggshells around her and Hitoka hates it. 

But that’s the least of her worries because his reply feels like a punch to the gut. Hitoka feels all her pent up anguish rising up to form words at the back of her throat. Trying to claw their way out into the light, desperate to let themselves be known. It wants to tell Atsumu that Hitoka is _struggling_ and that she probably really needs to get this off her chest. 

Her lips quiver in an attempt to try and hide the fact that she’s been having more trouble than usual, but she fails as she ends up sighing. 

“It was one song. I’m having a hard time writing too. I have one right now and it just feels… incomplete.” She breathes out. It feels like a release, even if it’s just a casual admission of her having a hard time when it comes to songwriting. 

She could feel Atsumu flinch from beside her, and honestly she couldn’t blame him at all. She never expected this too. Yachi Hitoka is always known for effortlessly writing songs, like it’s the easiest thing in the world to do. Writing blocks are something she never saw something, not until it’s finally there. 

“Sorry about that, Yacchan.” Even if their shoulders aren’t touching, HItoka knows that Atsumu’s shoulders have tensed now — guilty. 

“It’s fine, Atsumu.” She waves it off with a smile on her face that doesn’t reach her eyes. Hitoka is tired, and she just wants to get this EP over and done with. Much as she hates to admit it. 

Silence ensues for a few beats too long and Hitoka tries to get herself to think about what’s going on in Atsumu’s mind at the moment. The older twin is very rarely quiet. Lack of conversation or just simple side comments from Atsumu means that he’s up to something, or thinking deeply. Hitoka feels as though she knows what’s the case this time, but she doesn’t want to get ahead of the situation. 

“Say, Yacchan, what do you think about me setting you up in a writing session?” There are no traces of jokes or pranks on his face. He must have been really concerned, or bothered if he’s asking if he could set her up on a writing session. 

Hitoka raises an eyebrow. Miya Atsumu is a volleyball player and his connections to the music industry are all done through Osamu, her, or through Akaashi. If he’s going to schedule a writing session for her then it would probably be with someone she knows, or maybe someone she’s vaguely familiar with. The world — especially the ones they live in — just continuously shrink due to their butterfly effects on each other’s lives. 

“With who?” 

“Just trust me on this, Yacchan.” And then he disappears into her balcony, phone in ear. 

It doesn’t exactly give Hitoka a feeling of being at ease, but she trusts Atsumu enough to help her out. He’d done this several times already, both before and after the break up with his twin brother. Hitoka knows that whatever Atsumu offers, it’s always been of help to her. 

She stares at the half-written song on her notebook, or the vault of feelings as she calls it sometimes, and gets the overwhelming urge to rip it all to shreds. Of course she doesn’t do it, just stays staring at the notebook in a trance. 

Atsumu enters the room again with a smile on his face this time. 

“You’ve got a session with Akaashi tomorrow, Yacchan.” He plops back down on the couch, gaze glossing over to her amplifier before he moves to take the TV remote. 

“Does Keiji know?” She tilts her head to the side.

“I’ve got Bokuto on it.” 

Bokuto Koutarou… Akaashi Keiji’s boyfriend, and Miya Atsumu’s teammate. They met a few years ago through Osamu, but are still together even until now. Honestly, if there’s a relationship Hitoka wishes she had, it would be Keiji and Bokuto’s. Built entirely on support with no expectations from one another. She’s happy for them, of course, but sometimes she couldn’t help but to wish that things are easy for her too — just like how it seems to be so easy for Keiji and Bokuto. 

She feels Atsumu ruffling her hair, causing her to pout before setting down her notebook on the coffee table. 

“Let’s watch something and order takeout. I’ll be here until dinner.” Atsumu declares and opens Netflix on her TV. 

“What about Sakusa?” Hitoka inquires. It’s only eleven in the morning and she doubts that Atsumu would leave his boyfriend for that long. 

“He went to visit his family. He won’t be home until nine in the evening.” He responds while scrolling through the multiple options of shows to watch. 

“So that’s why you came here!” Hitoka exclaims, “Sakusa left you alone to fend for yourself.” She laughs and prods Atsumu’s side with her elbow. Even if the joke is accurate, Hitoka wouldn’t care. She just appreciates the fact that Atsumu cares enough to think about her and visit. 

It’s been a while since she’d seen the rest of Osamu’s family too. 

“It’s a secret, Yacchan.” He gives her a lopsided grin and phones the nearby Pizza Hut and asks for three boxes of pizza to be delivered in Hitoka’s place. 

“Atsumu that’s too fucking many…” Hitoka mutters under her breath. 

“You sound just like Samu. That’s fine, Hitoka. We can finish it, I know we can.” 

The pizza arrives thirty minutes later when they’re in the middle of watching Code Geass (it’s Hitoka’s favorite and Atsumu couldn’t exactly say no when she told him that the anime has an amazing mecha concept, and well… maybe she used the pleading eyes on him too), and they ended up watching almost the entire anime. 

Atsumu’s right too, they did finish the entire three boxes of pizza. 

-

**HITOKA IS EARLY.** That’s what Keiji told her when she arrived in the studio with lunch for the both of them. There’s not much for her to do at home and she didn’t want to spend the rest of her free time lazing around in her apartment when she could be getting a head start with her writing session. Every second matters — or at least, every second she could get that allows her to find the right words to convey her soul. 

“Any idea if the third person’s gonna come? I made three lunches just in case. We could just share the second one if they’re not arriving for lunch.” Hitoka sets the lunchboxes down on the table in front of the couch. 

“Well the third person likes being early, too... So this is a good call… I guess.” Keiji fidgets with his phone for a bit before taking a peek at his messages. “He’s gonna be here in a few. He said he just finished parking so…” 

Keiji sighs. Right away, Hitoka feels the looming feeling that something is about to happen. She trusts Atsumu, of course, but for some reason she just wants to turn back and run to the safe refuge of her apartment. 

“Everything okay, Keiji?” 

“Yeah, of course.” He responds, but there’s the feeling of uncertainty conveyed through his tone. Keiji had never really been a great liar, not even when he’s telling white lies. 

The door opens and Hitoka finds herself staring at Miya Osamu with wide eyes once more. Okay so maybe she put too much trust in Atsumu this time, but how the hell could she have known that this songwriting session is for her and Osamu?

Miya Atsumu is annoying, and today just might be the day that could fully attest to that fact. Still, it doesn’t mean Hitoka doesn’t feel a little bit happy that she gets to see Osamu again. 

“Yacchan made lunch, have you eaten?” Keiji takes the lead, something Hitoka would have to thank him for later. 

“I have, but I’m still hungry…” He rubs the back of his neck before taking the seat next to Keiji. “Hope you don’t mind, Hitoka.” 

Her heart drops to the floor. Osamu had called her by her name again, and this time he said it warmly. It feels like it’s spring again, despite the chill of autumn creeping deep into the pores of her bones. If her heart is a cherry blossom, it would be blooming endlessly in this moment, dropping cherry blossom petals into every corner of her body. 

“Not at all.” Hitoka manages to smile at him, though she makes sure that it’s not too wide. Careful steps are being taken just so she wouldn’t find herself falling headfirst for Osamu’s charms once more. 

The three of them eat lunch in silence, save for their thanks before the meal and Keiji’s compliment on Hitoka’s cooking. Admittedly, Hitoka feels as though she should say more, but the atmosphere suddenly became heavier. Awkwardness slowly clouds over the room and she doesn’t even realize that she’d been looking at anything else _but_ Osamu throughout the entire time. 

Although the feeling of being in spring again is still vaguely there, she could feel the tension rising in the air the more the three of them go on with awkward silence. Hitoka is wishing for Keiji to break the silence, but he’s only sitting there and eating his food like there’s no unresolved tension between Hitoka and Osamu. 

Events of their break-up immediately ran through Hitoka’s mind with no remorse. It would have ruined her resolve if she wasn’t eating lunch. Thankfully, the food is able to keep her distracted enough to prevent herself from quivering within the presence of her ex-boyfriend. But what she couldn’t stop thinking about is how they never really got proper closure. Hitoka assumes that maybe… all these feelings and frustrations are just a side effect of not being able to get a proper closure. Not because she wants him back. 

She can’t want him back. 

Yet she finds that she still wants to hold his hand, to reach for it across the table as his free hand is just playing with the chopsticks while he scrolls through his phone. She wants to feel her back against his chest, with his heart beating in perfect synchronization with hers. She misses how they would sit next to each other on the couch with his arms around her shoulder, warmth radiating off him like he’s all she could ever need to survive a cold day. 

Hitoka misses him. Every single part of him, his little habits that managed to rub off on her, his voice, the reassuring touches, _everything_. Seeing him right now feels like all of those are being withheld from her by some otherworldly force that only wants Hitoka to suffer. 

She helps Keiji clear the table and they tuck the lunchboxes away into the table by the corner of the studio. Osamu sits next to her, something that knocked the wind off Hitoka’s throat. There’s still enough distance between the two of them so she doesn’t feel his warmth at all, which she thinks is actually a good save, but at the same time the worst thing that could ever happen. 

Being touch-starved is starting to bite Hitoka Yachi in the ass right at this moment. There’s an overwhelming urge to move closer to him, just to be able to have their shoulders touching and feel his warmth against her side once more. If she loses all self-control today, then she might as well just yell _I’m still in love with you_ right at this very moment. 

“So uhh… I was told that you have a half-written song?” Osamu clears his throat. 

Straightforward, probably too straightforward for her liking. Then again, this is a business meeting and not really a planned reunion or whatsoever. Hitoka has to keep in mind that she shouldn’t expect too much from Osamu. Not in a set up like this. 

She could feel his eyes on her, and the heat rising up to her cheeks. 

It’s too late to back out now so she resorts to taking out the notebook. The all-too-familiar notebook that still held the pages filled with their love. If Osamu had any reaction towards the notebook, it’s very well hidden behind his curious expression. 

“So far I only have these lyrics,” then she proceeds to show him the song she’d written. 

There’s a flash of reaction in Osamu’s eyes, one so little that Hitoka barely caught it — but it’s there. A sort of recognition, or maybe a flash of guilt as the lyrics jumped up at him. Hitoka infers that maybe she doesn’t have to explain to him what these lyrics mean now. 

“I feel like it’s not really… complete yet. Like there’s something missing.” Hitoka adds. 

Keiji finally takes a peek on the notebook page after being on his phone — he must have been texting Koutarou — and places a hand on his chin, a thinking habit that he doesn’t notice. 

“Do you have an idea for the melody?” Keiji turns to Hitoka. 

“Yeah, hold on,” Hitoka takes one of Keiji’s acoustic guitars from where it hung on the wall, and sang the incomplete song. “I mean… I don’t want it to be acoustic. Probably like… a lot of atmospheric sounds and twinkling stuff... “ She bites her bottom lip as she stares at the lyrics, completely oblivious to the way Osamu is staring at that very habit. 

“I get what you mean.” Keiji responds with a nod, “Though I think I’ll be of help more with the melody than the lyrics. I can’t… seem to get my head around the song.” 

“No please… It’s not a problem at all, Keiji!” Automatically, her eyes land on Osamu who seems to be lost in thought as he reads the words. 

It’s nice, Hitoka thinks, to be like this once more with him. While this writing session is nowhere near as intimate as the ones they’ve had before, it still feels like they’re out here pouring their hearts out to each other. Despite the changes, at least they still have this. 

Okay so Atsumu is annoying, but maybe he does know that his help is extremely valuable, and that his ways may be unconventional but it works far better than Hitoka thought it would. 

“Hey ba— Hitoka,” Osamu clears his throat once more, cheeks reddening. 

If internal organs could move around by their own free will, her heart would have already been jumping all around her body, spreading butterflies and spring in every corner. It’s bittersweet to hear him almost say _babe_ as though he’s still used to her constant presence around him even if it’s already been a year. Hitoka’s yearning for Osamu only grows even more. 

She looks at him, urging him to continue on with his statement. The slip up causes a lapse in their headspaces for a few seconds. 

“Uh yeah… do you mind if I fill in the blank parts of the song?” 

The request takes her aback. They rarely do this when they’re writing together, but when it goes it always turns into one of Hitoka’s more heartbreaking songs, or his group’s rare but heart-piercing ballads. If her prediction is right, this could possibly be the song that would break her heart, and the rest of the world to an extent. 

“Go ahead.” She responds, hoping that the minutes he spends trying to write the rest of the song would be enough to prepare her heart for the emotional turmoil that will follow. 

While Osamu is busy writing the lyrics, Hitoka and Keiji work on the melody. A song armed with an atmospheric experiment with synthesizers, a steady bass drum and an electric guitar support in the background that provides the pillar to the entire song. It takes them a few tries to get a proper demo working, though it still feels incomplete, Hitoka reckons that the additional lyrics and a trial record of the vocals would help complete the entire thing. 

She allows Keiji to tinker with the track on his own as he’s the better producer. From the couch, she watches Osamu scratch the side of his head with a pencil while he writes on her notebook. Hopefully by the time he’s done writing, the lyrics would be complete as well.

Her vault of feelings is currently in the hands of her ex-boyfriend, and it doesn’t really bother Hitoka as much as she thought it would. Osamu had always respected her privacy, and even if he chose to snoop, she doesn’t mind one bit. There are absolutely no qualms when it comes to giving her heart and what it says to Osamu. 

Even if he’s not her boyfriend anymore, or maybe even a friend, she still trusts him with her whole heart. 

“And I’m done!” Osamu exclaims with a grin on his face that makes Hitoka’s knees go weak. She had to look away just so he wouldn’t notice her staring at him from across the room. 

“Do you think you two could record in the booth already?” Keiji asks. 

The booth of the studio is… not too small but it’s not spacious either. Hitoka had recorded a few demos in this booth with Osamu before, and she could always, _always_ feel the close proximity between the two of them. Somehow that turns into an unresolved tension that would only unwind when they’re in Osamu’s apartment, clinging onto each other under the safety of his sheets with _i love yous_ whispered in between ragged breaths. 

“Sure.” Hitoka answers with a smile on her face, like she could still hold her own while being with Osamu properly for the first time since their breakup. 

“Alright, let me play the track so you two would know what it sounds like and then you could try recording, yeah?” 

To be honest, the track feels a bit incomplete to Hitoka while she listens. Essentially, the song is somewhat a hopeful revelation of feelings as well as pining. It’s supposed to talk about just how much hope Hitoka has for both her and Osamu, how she wishes that their break up is not entirely the end to the two of them. 

It’s almost like the song lacks a grand gesture. 

“Wait… this song… it’s not supposed to be a duet.” Hitoka bites her lip and hides her face from Osamu, hoping that he wouldn’t take it the wrong way. (Which he probably wouldn’t, they’ve always written songs that she performed by herself. She just doesn’t know if that changed over the past year.) 

“Calm down, Yacchan. We’ll just have Osamu sing the parts he wrote. Kind of like how you record guide vocals.” Keiji chuckles, which adds more to the current embarrassment Hitoka feels. 

“It’s just for the demo, Hitoka. Come on.” The smile on Osamu’s face is warm, just like him. It feels like the first sight of cherry blossoms on a spring day, relieving and breathtaking. 

Osamu opens the door for her and she can’t believe that it still feels so easy to be doing this with him. She ducks underneath his arm to go into the booth, and she looks back at him just as he’s closing the door behind him. It’s like nothing changed, but at the same time everything did. 

Suddenly, standing next to him in this stuffy recording booth feels both suffocating and endearing. Even with the space in between them, she could still feel his presence that’s so close to her — like they never had to spend some time apart from each other in the first place. 

It’s scary for Hitoka to be in here with him. All she wants is proper closure, not a sudden wave of feelings pulling her in like the tides. 

“You ready?” Osamu asks her with a smile that sets her entire body on fire. 

Hitoka nods before motioning for Keiji to start recording. 

After Hitoka’s first few lines, Osamu starts singing and she could feel her heart beat loudly against her chest in a wild syncopation that makes her want to place her arms around Osamu’s waist. She’d never forgotten the sound of his singing voice — how could she when their songs are literally played all over Tokyo? — but she forgot the feeling of listening to him bringing a new song to life with his intense passion. 

Standing here with Miya Osamu puts her in danger of falling in love with him all over again.

It is when they’re singing together for the bridge, his voice perfectly complimenting hers like it _always_ has, that Hitoka Yachi realizes that whatever it is she’s feeling right now — it’s somewhat the same for Osamu. 

The music stops and they’re staring at each other like there’s no one else in the world but them. Hitoka doesn’t know if she wants to cry, or to smile at him, or both. The sudden wave of feelings crashing over her is overwhelming, tempting her to just move closer to him and tell him _everything._ She wants to hug him and tell him about her day. She wants to pull herself flush against him and kiss him like it’s the much awaited resolution to a prolonged conflict. 

But she doesn’t do any of those. Instead, Hitoka gives him a smile instead and leaves the recording booth to give Keiji a few more instructions regarding the song. 

Before she leaves the studio, she makes sure to tell _both_ Keiji and Osamu that the song will be kept as a duet.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> talk to me on twt: @chihayasee, comments are appreciated too !


	5. cornelia street

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Red rises up to her face at the sound of the familiar voice and the familiar pet name. Sometimes Hitoka wishes that their circles aren’t so connected with one another, then there would be less chances of her seeing him in situations like this. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this chapter wrote itself in the best way possible. this isn't what i had in mind for this chapter at all, nor is cornelia street the song set for this chapter. if you follow the deep blue playlist on spotify you'd know that twenty something by nightly is supposed to be this chapter's designated song. but halfway while writing this, all i could think about is cornelia street and how it's basically hitoka and osamu and all the angst and fluff in between. so i took the liberty of changing this as i think it fits the entire plot better than how i initially thought it would.

_[ cornelia street - taylor swift ]_

_-_

**IF THIS ISN’T KOUTAROU’S PARTY, HITOKA WOULDN’T EVEN BE HERE AT ALL.** She would have skipped the party altogether if Atsumu and Keiji didn’t convince her to go. According to Atsumu, the last party she attended with him was Oikawa’s from over a year ago, and he’s going to ‘take it personally’ if she skips this one tonight. Meanwhile Keiji just told her that it would mean a lot for Koutarou if she went. 

Hitoka had tried to get Hinata to defend her, but Hinata sided with his teammate this round and Hitoka just pathetically lost that battle for her pride. 

Eventually, she puts on a dress and the thigh high boots that she hasn’t used in ages. If she’s going to this party, might as well look the part of being one with Japan’s most popular clique, right? Plus, if Atsumu is going to be there, she’s certain that Osamu will be too. Hitoka doesn’t really want to look like crap when Osamu sees her again. 

It’s been a week since she had to stand in Keiji’s studio next to Osamu, but she couldn’t quite get it out of her head. Each day she’d woken up to her chaotic routine of trying to write and coordinate with Keiji for a few of her songs and making whatever food she could make only to find herself thinking about Osamu and their unexpected encounter again. 

She’d given Atsumu hell for it of course, summoned him into her apartment only to give him an earful — which, in hindsight, was probably the worst decision ever because she ended up telling him all about what happened. A few hours later Hinata and Kenma showed up and all three of them asked Hitoka for details with overflowing enthusiasm. Of course she gave the details to them with nothing much to spare. There is literally nothing she could hide from them anymore. 

Bound by the best friend rule, Hitoka is picked up by Hinata and Kenma from her apartment — also she knows they did it because they don’t want her escaping on them anyway, but semantics. The thing with Hinata and Kenma is that they know how to make sure that she still feels included when she’s third-wheeling with the two of them. However it still feels a bit lonely when she accidentally notices the little touches, the whispers to each other’s ears, and how Hinata would often try to make sure that Kenma’s okay with his environment. 

Adamant on enjoying herself for tonight even for just a bit, Hitoka notes to herself that she should separate herself from the two when they arrive at Bokuto’s penthouse. If she’s right about her guess regarding Bokuto’s guest list, then surely there’s someone she’s bound to know there. Hopefully Alisa or Akane, but it doesn’t matter, Hitoka can be a social butterfly if she wants to be anyway. 

The penthouse is already filled with people the moment they arrive yet Bokuto is quick to welcome them and push a can of beer into Hitoka and Hinata’s hands, following Bokuto is Keiji who gave Kenma a cup of what she assumed to be something non-alcoholic. Kenma had never been one for alcoholic beverages. 

It’s only a matter of time before Atsumu came to greet them with a voice almost rivalling the speaker system of the party. In his hand is a solo cup probably filled with whatever mixture he’d concocted — something none of them would try. Between the twins, it’s always been Osamu who knew his way around the kitchen. Whatever Atsumu does in that place is always bound to be a disaster. 

“Yacchan, I think you should try this.” He tries to give her the drink, but Hitoka refuses and only shows Atsumu the current can of beer she’s holding. 

Bokuto’s penthouse is actually scarily huge. She doesn’t know the net worth of volleyball players, but she assumes that it’s somewhat high if Bokuto could afford this place. The last time she went to a party hosted by Bokuto, he doesn’t live here yet. Party lights cover the place and there’s a section in the living room where there are strobing neon lights attached to the ceiling. People are glowing under the light, all of them dancing to their heart’s content. 

They look as though they’re filled with life. Careless and weightless even in a place where they could be scrutinized. If souls could fly, Hitoka is sure that their souls would already be close to the ceiling. 

She recognizes a few faces: Akane and Alisa, but their boyfriends are nowhere to be found. Hitoka assumes that they’re probably with the rest of the boys if they’re not in the living room. She just hopes that Akane and Alisa’s boyfriends’ presence wouldn’t have to mean that she’ll see Miya Osamu anytime soon 

Alcohol is very much needed if she’s going to look at her ex-boyfriend in the eyes tonight. 

Hitoka makes her way to the kitchen and takes one of the hard cocktails from the kitchen counter before heading towards the girls who seemed to be engrossed in their own conversation. Hitoka just hopes that they haven’t forgotten about her existence yet as she hasn’t really been in contact with either of them in a while. 

But she approaches them with the same smile she’d worn when she first met them anyway. Both Alisa and Akane are nice, and Hitoka doesn’t really want her break-up with Osamu to meddle with her friendships with other people. She just hopes that they think of her as a friend too instead of just Osamu’s girlfriend back from when they all first met. 

Right before she could greet the two girls, Alisa calls her name almost as soon as she lays her eyes on the smaller girl. 

“Yachi!” Alisa breaks out into a wide grin, showing a perfect set of pearly whites that made Hitoka conscious about her own teeth. 

Alisa is a model, one of Japan’s pride in the fashion and modelling industry to be exact. Hitoka knew her before they were introduced to one another, mostly because Alisa had been the face of every major clothing brand in Japan. Her billboards are scattered all over Tokyo and her name graces every headline when multiple fashion week shows come in. 

That very nature caused Hitoka to assume that Alisa is a bit of a snob, only to be proven wrong the moment the girl engulfed her into a huge hug and mentioned that she’s finally glad that she’s not the only girl to hang out with the group. Alisa is welcoming and kind, a huge contrast to the personality Hitoka assumed she would have. 

Akane on the other hand is still a college student, studying advertising in a university Hitoka doesn’t quite remember. She’d met Akane as Lev’s best friend, and to an extension, Alisa’s too. Lev had cheerfully dragged Akane to group hangouts and parties — all of which is a delight for Akane who only really wanted to hang out with him. 

“How have you been? I went to a festival you were in one time with my friends, but I couldn’t find you after your set.” Akane moved aside and made space on the couch for Hitoka, one that’s between her and Alisa. 

“You’re going to have to remind me which festival it is.” Hitoka smiled apologetically. Last year was a whirlwind of music festivals, all of them kind of similar in theme and similar in vibes. Hitoka doesn’t even know why she agreed to all of those music festivals instead of just going on tour by herself. 

But then again, last year was complicated. The breakup’s aftermath had been difficult to deal with and nothing could quell the chaos inside her head other than the screams of a crowd following along to her every word. 

“Pretty sure it’s the one in Osaka.” Akane’s lips are puckered, eyebrows furrowed as she stares at the ceiling in deep thought. 

“Oh. Sorry about that. I couldn’t really remember what happened after but I think I had a set at a nearby bar so I had to leave right after.” Some days Hitoka schedules intimate gigs in bars just to allow herself a feeling of being close to other people once more. Or maybe it’s a form of distraction, a way to remind herself that she’s still at a level obscure enough to perform in small venues. 

Most of the decisions Hitoka made during the past year are made with haste and she doesn’t even remember why she chose to do them in the first place. She chalks it all up to the desperate feeling of wanting to run away from her own feelings that are slowly catching up to her now. 

“Don’t worry about it!” Akane giggles, “Knowing my friends, they’d bombard you for selfies if they knew that we’re friends. They’re big fans, you see.” Akane giggles again and Hitoka is pretty sure that this girl is already nearing her alcohol limit. 

“Is she alright?” Hitoka whispers to Alisa. 

“Akane has… low tolerance. I’ll get my brother to bring her home in a while, don’t worry.” Alisa gives Hitoka another one of her warm smiles 

Hitoka remains here with the two girls while talking about mundane things that don’t really constitute any deep thoughts. None of their words are particularly stimulating Hitoka’s writing brain too, so she decides that maybe it’s time for her to retire to a balcony somewhere. She politely excuses herself and takes her purse before looking for a balcony somewhere. 

The penthouse is large enough to contain a balcony in a hidden corner and Hitoka immediately slides the door open, emerging with a breath of fresh air in the cool Tokyo night. 

“Balcony’s take— oh babe, it’s you.” 

Red rises up to her face at the sound of the familiar voice  _ and  _ the familiar pet name. Sometimes Hitoka wishes that their circles aren’t so connected with one another, then there would be less chances of her seeing him in situations like this. 

She composes herself and pretends that she didn’t hear him call her ‘babe’ just now. 

“Hey ‘Samu.” She gives him a small smile before taking out the pack of cigarettes in her purse. She takes one between her lips and gives the end a small bite to pop the menthol before lighting it up. From the corner of her eye, she knows that Osamu is looking at her — Hitoka hands out the pack to him out of courtesy. 

“Already?” He smiles at her, all the while he’s taking the pack from her so he could get his own. “The people there must have been tiring you already.” 

“You know me. Parties are a hit or miss for me.” Hitoka finally takes a seat on the floor of the balcony, handing out her lighter to her ex-boyfriend. 

Smoking with Osamu in the balcony of her friend’s apartment is not in Hitoka’s to-do list, but she appreciates the chance encounter anyway. It’s silent for a while. All she could hear is the sound of Tokyo traffic from beneath them, and the sound of the bass being boosted from the living room. It’s a miracle at this point that none of the neighbors are complaining. Surely there must be people living underneath this unit, right? 

A small weight is pressed over Hitoka’s shoulders and she realizes that Osamu had already placed his jacket over her. Even after their break up, he’s still quite the gentleman — he still knows how to make her stomach churn out butterflies. 

“What? Don’t look at me like that. I know you get cold easily.” He puffs out a cloud of smoke, but she doesn’t miss the playful smile at the corner of his lips. 

For some reason, Hitoka wants to kiss it away. 

Instead of giving in to impulse, Hitoka takes a drag off her cigarette instead. She shouldn’t think of things such as kissing her ex-boyfriend while she’s buzzed. While her alcohol tolerance is average, her impulse control significantly decreases the moment she’s had about two cocktails. Had she taken anymore tonight, she would probably be on her ex-boyfriend’s lap right this very moment. 

“Since when did Koutarou move here, though?” Hitoka breaks the silence after a few seconds. She misses Osamu, misses talking to him and misses hearing his voice. She should at least take advantage of this one chance encounter before leaving to try and move on. 

“Not just Koutarou. Keiji moved in with him. Quite a huge step in their relationship if you ask me.” There it is, the Kansai dialect that Hitoka had grown to love. She hates it when Osamu forces himself to talk in the standard Tokyo dialect whenever he’s around other people. When he talks to her like this, it feels intimate — like she’s still a part of the life he keeps hidden from the rest of the world. 

Or maybe she’d always been a part of that life, the one hidden from the entire world, never to be known by the people outside of his inner circle. In some ways it’s flattering to be a part of that, to be trusted and loved enough that everyone important to Osamu knows her. But it’s also burdening to know that she could never be seen with him in public without stirring up some sort of controversy that could mean less sales and more hate for his group. 

Whenever Hitoka remembers the reality imposed upon them by their chosen careers, she wishes that she just ran her mother’s design company instead. 

“I mean… they seem to love each other very much. It’s about time they move in with each other.” Hitoka shrugs, taking note of how slow the time seems to be going when she’s with Osamu. She doesn’t know if this is a punishment or a blessing — or both. 

“Yeah,” Osamu sighs, “Anyways, I heard about your new EP from Keiji. How’s it going?” 

Oh. The EP. Of course he’d ask about the EP that’s definitely not about him, or their breakup. 

“It’s… alright. I mean I’m trying to get it out as soon as possible because I haven’t released anything in so long.” She’s also afraid of fading into obscurity as well, so there’s that. 

“Your last release was Cornelia Street, right?” Osamu asks, like it’s no big deal that he remembers something like that at all. 

“Yeah.” She smiles, even though it kind of hurts that the song he mentioned was the last thing she ever released to the world prior to their breakup. 

Cornelia Street. A song that she’d written for him and him only. A song that reflects each and every one of her fears about the two of them, how she doesn’t want their love to fade — how she doesn’t want him to leave her side no matter what happens. It’s the painful prelude to a breakup that neither of them knew was coming until it’s finally knocking on their doors. 

_ “I hope I never lose you, I hope it never ends. I’d never walk Cornelia Street again.”  _ He sings the first few lines of the song with a voice so passionate that it tugs on Hitoka’s heartstrings. She’d never wanted to place her arms around him more than she does now. 

“ _ That’s the kind of heartbreak time could never mend. I’d never walk Cornelia Street again.” _ She sings the rest of the song back to him with a smile, tears pooling at the bottom of her eyes at the sudden rush of memories. 

_ “And baby I get mystified by how this city screams your name.”  _ He looks at her this time, as if he’s expecting something more than just an exchange of lyrics between the two of them. 

If he’s expecting her to profess that she’s still in love with him, she would have, but only if she wasn’t so scared at how things would turn out. Osamu Miya’s life is much too fast-paced for her. Hitoka doesn’t know if she’s going to be able to keep up if she does this with him once more. 

So she settles for this:  _ “And baby I’m so terrified of if you ever walk away. _ ” 

The smile on his face is enough for her to deduce that she made the right decision singing her own lyrics back to him instead. 

This song is written and produced without Osamu’s knowledge. It’s a confession. An exclamation of feelings that she’s entirely certain would never change no matter what transpires between them, or what life throws at them. In a way, this proposition is correct. Even in the aftermath of their breakup, even when she’s not exactly his anymore — and he’s not exactly hers — she still holds onto the memories and the feelings of before. 

It’s a song she wrote during the nights where she would watch Osamu’s chest rise and fall while the moonlight hits his face perfectly. A song written for the quiet nights where he’d hold her hand when she’s at her lowest point. A song for when they would find themselves in the dark, staring at each other as if it’s they’re the only ones to ever exist in the chaotic world they belong to. A song she wrote just to remind herself that  _ with him,  _ there’s no one else that matters. 

Ensconced in this song are Hitoka’s memories of Osamu and the way he would reach out his hands towards the other side of the bed as an attempt to find her warmth if she’s not beside him, and the hidden smiles shared whenever they’re both out in public. This song contains her heart and all its contents, more specifically, her heart that she’d given fully to Osamu. 

To be singing this song in a balcony with him… it makes her miss the way things were. 

“I miss you, Hitoka.” Even with the loud bass coming from inside the apartment, and the sound of the wind gushing, his words are crystal clear when it registers in her head. 

He misses her.  _ Osamu misses her.  _

“I miss you too, ‘Samu.” 

They smile at each other under the moonlight and the city lights. 

Something about it feels like coming home, even though Hitoka knows that the concept of home shouldn’t be entirely dependent on a person.


	6. nobody compares to you

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hitoka has lived long enough to know that there can never be a winner between the head and the heart. They must coexist because feelings are not the property of just one of them. They are made possible by both working at the same time. The contradiction between the two of those are just a part of the entire process.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry for keeping you all waiting, but here it is! also i think it's about time i share the playlist that boosts my muse for this fic whenever i write. [here's the deep blue playlist](https://open.spotify.com/playlist/3NCBOzzEIkbQAKlysZzUdX?si=MQQrl0ysTjSKWGOuE9Fwnw) and i hope that it would like... add to the experience of reading yachi's journey.

_[ nobody compares to you - gryffin ft. kate perlman ]_

**-**

**HITOKA ALWAYS WRITES HER OWN SONGS.** Regardless of whether or not they’re released as collaborations, or as a part of an entire album. If her songs aren’t completely written by her, then a part of those lyrics would still be written by her and reminiscent of her own personal experiences. She assumes that it’s all a part of her unfortunate trait where she sees the entirety of life as something romantic — even with the multiple failures and setbacks. 

It’s different this time though because Keiji had written her a song due to her unending rants about her previous encounter with Osamu two weeks ago at the party. Hitoka even went as far as cursing Keiji’s place for reuniting her with the ex-boyfriend she’s desperately trying to forget. 

“But you don’t want to forget him. Stop lying to yourself.” Keiji retorted when he slipped the paper with the lyrics in front of her. “I’m going to call a friend of mine with an incomplete demo for a song. You should provide the vocals for the final single.” 

Such events led her to the studio in the middle of Tokyo to work with a new producer. A producer that Keiji knew, and apparently he lived in the Miyagi prefecture as well. Sometimes, the music industry feels like a world that’s too small for her own good. Hitoka hopes that she doesn’t know this guy. 

Hitoka whispers a few words of encouragement to herself before entering the studio, ready to greet Keiji’s friend with a smile. 

“Hi! Keiji sent me he— oh.” The blonde stops in her tracks because the world really is too small for her own good. “Tsukki… it’s you…” Hitoka rubs the back of her neck awkwardly. 

“Huh. I never thought I’d get the darling of the music industry in my studio.” Kei Tsukishima, a former classmate of Hitoka, and apparently a producer now. She never really kept in touch with anyone from the volleyball team other than Hinata and Sugawara (and Daichi by extension). She didn’t expect to see a familiar face in this studio today. 

“Well… how have you been?” The atmosphere feels awkward. Back in high school, Hitoka had  _ trouble  _ trying to talk to Kei. 

“Been good. What about you?” He keeps his words short, very typical of Kei. 

“I’ve been good! I’m just… you know… trying to put more music out there again. Last year was non-stop touring.” It’s exhausting, she wants to say, but Hitoka holds herself back because she doesn’t even know how to talk to the people of her past anymore. 

Such people include her ex-boyfriend who is somehow the root of every single dramatics she’d ever done during the past few months. Even this collaboration — which is frankly not a form of dramatic — is the indirect effect of her breakup with Osamu. 

“I suppose you would want to get to work now. Anyways, I heard the vocal recording already. Keiji sent it to me just a few days ago. We could record the thing now if you want.” He goes straight to business and Hitoka is honestly thankful that he didn’t ask her any more questions. 

“That would be lovely.” She smiles and takes a seat next to him when he motions for her to sit on the empty swivel chair in the room. Kei plays the instrumental track for Hitoka overlapped with the recorded vocals from a few days ago and Hitoka thinks that maybe… just maybe… Keiji was onto something when he wrote this song. 

The song’s genre is EDM, something Hitoka doesn’t really try to work with. While she loves the sound of a good synthesizer, she doesn’t really know if she could make releases that feature  _ heavy  _ synthesizer drops instead of the usual chilled down acoustics or synth pop sounds that she usually works with. 

Although this opportunity isn’t something Hitoka feels negatively towards. After a year of staying deep inside her comfort zone, she figures that now is a good time as any to try her hand at something new. Her breakup shouldn’t stop her from trying new things, and she’s determined to prove that with this collaboration. 

As soon as Tsukki hits ‘play’ for the recording, Hitoka is reminded of the late night drives, the sneaking around in carefully put-together disguises that she would have laughed at had she been a normal person, the thrill of finally piecing together a song that’s all about her and Osamu and presenting it to the world like a little mystery, and the ‘ _ I love you’ _ s that somehow still echo inside her head until this very moment. 

Every note she creates with her own voice feels like plucking memories from the harp that is her mind and heart. The lyrics written for her by Keiji are almost like a retelling of what she had to go through during that party, and how pathetic her heart must be for wanting nothing but Osamu. Even in the midst of the worst heartbreak she’d ever experienced, she never regretted what they had. 

If anything, Hitoka is ready to go through that whirlwind romance once more because it’s  _ worth it.  _ Every single bit of it is worth it. 

-

**THE SONG GETS RELEASED AS TSUKKI’S FIRST SINGLE.** And by some miracle, Tsukishima offered an acoustic version for her to work with and possibly add to her new EP. Despite her initial reservations about the genre of EDM and the song in general, Hitoka fell in love with the song itself. Hence she could never pass up the opportunity to have a stripped version of it in her EP. 

She’s quite thankful for Tsukki, actually. He brought to life one of the most unique songs Hitoka had ever worked on (simply because it’s in a genre so different from her own), and allowed her to find something different but still so fulfilling. Even if the song had been Keiji’s idea — don’t get her wrong, she’s absolutely thankful for him still — it was Tsukki who made it happen.

An acoustic version of the song had been performed in a bar for the first time. The bar she frequented before she became huge in the industry. To be frank, it’s one of her favorite places to sing in due to the intimacy formed between her and her crowd. It’s almost like a different universe within this bar. There’s nothing but her and the small group of people, sharing all the little secrets she could tell. 

Even with the invitation, Tsukki didn’t come tonight. Apparently, performing live is not his thing and that he’d very much rather work behind the scenes as opposed to performing to a live audience. It’s something Hitoka respected and didn’t really push further. Besides, she’d always been a hurricane of a performer by herself even if she’s just armed with an acoustic guitar. 

She could handle this. It’s the very way she started anyway. A girl fresh out of high school, performing covers and whatnot in order to finally get her break in the music industry. Performing this song wouldn’t be different from the way she started. It keeps Hitoka’s head on the ground, and allows her to remember how to keep herself sane through all of it. 

_ Remember how you started. Remember how everything had been.  _

When she takes center stage in front of the small number of audience, Hitoka smiles before beginning the lengthy message she would usually say for the audience. 

“Hey guys. So as you know I haven’t released anything in a year… but I  _ did  _ release something just a few days ago with a really good friend of mine.” The crowd cheers and Hitoka giggles. “Just for context, this song was written for me by a friend of mine. Of course the lyrics were modified a bit by  _ yours truly  _ just to fit the narrative it’s supposed to be about. But this song… this song is special to me.” 

Hitoka’s grin widens when she hears the usual cheers from the crowd. It’s the sound that makes her veins go wild from underneath her skin, reminding her that  _ this  _ is the reason why she loves music. It’s because she  _ wants  _ to share anything and everything to everyone — letting them all feel her emotions and allowing them to relate to her as much as they can. 

“If the lyrics aren’t obvious enough… it’s about moving on — but also not moving on. There are some people in your life that just do so much for you, and they’re everywhere and nowhere all at once and it’s just… they made you feel everything. Everything to the point where you don’t really know if anyone is going to match up to what they made you feel.” Hitoka’s cheeks flush and she silently thanks the few cans of beer that allowed her to be this honest tonight. 

“This is for everyone trying to forget and remember everything at the same time.” Hitoka’s eyes twinkle as she smiles. She strums her guitar and begins singing her favorite song as of late. 

All the moments spent between her and Osamu throughout their relationship made its way back in her head. She remembers the little moments from behind the life with cameras. The hidden smiles, the intertwined fingers, and the staring in the dead of the night. 

She remembers how he made her heart do somersaults in her chest just by looking at her, and how he made her laugh during her worst days. She also remembers how he would often try his best to crawl underneath her brain — to understand her when she doesn’t even know herself. Or the way he would be so incredibly patient that it’s impossible not to brand him as a saint with the lengthy amount of patience he has with Hitoka’s frequent mood swings. 

In short, Osamu is everything she wishes for — and everything she wants to forget. He is a paradox in her life. A reminder that she knows what love is, as well as the very reason why she wants to forget every single thing that love is. 

_ Somebody please help me get over you.  _ The song says — and god she’d be lying if she says it’s not accurate to what she feels right now. But then again, everything in her life had been a paradox recently. A contradiction to what she wants to do and how she feels. It’s like her head and her heart are at a constant duel, trying to assert the dominance of one over the other. 

But Hitoka has lived long enough to know that there can never be a winner between the head and the heart. They must coexist because feelings are not the property of just one of them. They are made possible by both working at the same time. The contradiction between the two of those are just a part of the entire process. 

She willingly embraces all of this as she runs her pick through the strings of her guitar with fingers pressed to different parts of the fretboard. Her heart is breaking and healing all at the same time, and Hitoka understands that this is all part of the journey. 

If she gets Osamu back after this, then that’s great. She’d have learned from their mistakes from back then, and they’d work everything out the way they’re supposed to. She wouldn’t be running away from what is essentially the biggest challenge of their relationship. 

If she doesn’t, then that’s okay. She’d still be able to look at herself in the mirror and pat herself on the back because she knows that there is something to learn from heartbreak that doesn’t mend itself with a reunion. She understands that there are some people who are just present in your life so they could help you learn. 

The probability of Osamu being one of those people is a notion that Hitoka had already grown accustomed to. 

When she sings the last line of her final song with a nostalgic smile on her face, Hitoka exhales — relief coursing through her veins because it feels exhilarating to be able to let all of that out. She doesn’t confess to her feelings, but rather, she shares them to the rest of the world like a little secret. 

Finally sharing this little secret to everyone feels like a thorn finally taken out of her side. 

“And that’s it for tonight. Please don’t forget to stream my songs  _ and  _ take care of yourselves. If there’s anything that the past year has taught me, it’s to be able to come to terms with your feelings and accept them for what they are. Heartbreak is a part of growing, and whether we use that experience to our advantage or not is completely up to us. I hope you all have a good night.” She takes a bow and relishes in the audience’s applause before finally disappearing into the backstage. 

When she arrives backstage, her cell phone vibrates from inside the pocket of her jean shorts. Curiously, Hitoka opens it to see that it’s a text from none other than her ex-boyfriend himself. 

_ I think you’re right.  _ He says for the first text.  _ Do you want to maybe hang out in the usual 7-11? Disguise and all.  _ The next text reads and Hitoka feels the warmth rise up to her cheeks. 

If she read those texts right, it meant that Osamu had been in the crowd tonight, and that he had been able to hear  _ all  _ of those things she’d said that are so very obviously about their relationship. 

Hitoka would have been embarrassed if she isn’t a bit happy that he at least knows about how she feels right in this moment. 

-

**SHE ARRIVES AT THE 7-11 WITHIN AN HOUR.** Lugging around her guitar in the bustling city of Tokyo is quite possibly the worst experience of her life, and Hitoka just had to  _ miss  _ the last train that could take her home without the horrible experience of trying to grab a taxi in the dead of the night. The expenses are fine, but having to compete with the rest of the club-goers in the middle of the night for a cab is never a good experience. 

The first sight that greets her is the dimly lit sign of the 7-11, followed by Osamu sitting on one of the chairs outside in the disguise he often uses when they’re with each other in public. Even if he’s just wearing his usual black hoodie and cap, he still manages to take Hitoka’s breath away. 

There’s caution when she approaches Osamu. She pulls her mask up and looks behind her — a habit she’d developed when she started dating Osamu and one she’d carried even after a year. 

Upon confirming that there’s no one behind her, or that there’s no one who could potentially recognize her, Hitoka allows her shoulders to relax. She takes a seat directly across from Osamu. 

It’s only been a few seconds since she got here, but it already feels like an entire year’s worth of memories are rushing through her system. Being in this extremely familiar place with Osamu almost deludes her into thinking that nothing has changed, that they’re still as in love as they had been a year ago. 

But the way Osamu calls her name that grounds her back to reality. It lacks certainty, almost as if there’s fear that this moment would disappear through their fingers if they didn’t grasp it tightly. 

In a way, it perfectly describes what being in a relationship with Osamu is like. It’s like holding onto sand that could easily escape your hands if you don’t hold onto it tightly. Hitoka wishes it never has to be that way, but it’s just the unfortunate way of things especially given their circumstances. 

Most of the time, Hitoka wishes she’s an ordinary person instead. 

There’s a heavy weight on their shoulders that’s filled with responsibility, especially on Osamu’s part. There are contracts that need to be fulfilled, images to uphold, and fans to please. All of these had to be taken into account for  _ every single decision  _ that both of them would make. 

Frankly, it’s exhausting to be thinking of so many things simultaneously. Normal people in their twenties are all just living their lives through all the fuck ups and successes. Arguably, there are more mistakes in the life of a normal twenty year old than success — but this is something Hitoka and Osamu couldn’t exactly afford. 

The pressure builds up in the air, almost as if it’s going to tear and hack away at Hitoka’s lungs. She supposes that maybe she’s not cut out for this life. 

“I heard your song.” Osamu begins, taking the liberty of sliding his mask downwards just enough to expose the rest of his face. 

Hitoka feels the air getting sucked out of her lungs as she moves to look at the area around them yet again. 

“There’s no one here. It’s two in the morning, Hitoka, and this 7-11 is probably the most obscure one I’ve ever been to. We’re fine.” He tries his best to be reassuring, but there’s only a sinking feeling in Hitoka’s gut. 

Osamu seems to have noticed since he slid his mask back to where it had been a few seconds. Hitoka visibly takes a sigh of relief. 

“You wrote that?” Osamu asks after a few seconds of silence — nothing but the noises of the late night breeze and the crickets chirping. 

“Keiji wrote it for me,” Hitoka replies with a smile, “I tweaked it a bit but… yeah.” 

“I listened to the new song right away when it was released. To be honest I never thought you’d be the type to lend your voice to an EDM track but… it suits you. It feels nice listening to you again.” There’s nothing but earnest and genuine support in his face and Hitoka’s heart is soaring. 

“You could listen to me on Spotify anytime you want, though.” Hitoka is thankful that she’s wearing a mask, otherwise Osamu would have seen the way her cheeks had reddened from his previous remark. To have that happen in front of him would only give away what little secret she could keep from him. 

“It’s different listening to you when you’re trying new stuff. Makes me think I’m not stuck.” 

_ Stuck _ ? Hitoka thinks. If anyone’s going to be stuck somewhere, it would be her. She’s in this limbo between moving forward and constantly looking back. An  _ impasse _ , if you will. No matter how much she tries to move on and leave behind the pieces of her that she’d left in Osamu’s care, she couldn’t help but to look back and return to them. 

The only reason why Hitoka looks as though she’s doing perfectly fine is because she had long perfected the art of pretending. It only solidified when her relationship with Osamu was at its peak. 

“Stuck?” Hitoka echoes her thoughts, not wanting to step over the line because she doesn’t really know anything about him anymore — even if there had been a time where she could read his mind instantly. She doesn’t want to talk over him or what he’s feeling. 

“Just… stuck. In every sense. It’s a mess, you wouldn’t want to hear about it.” He exhales and gives her one of those smiles that she  _ hates  _ looking at. It’s the smile of resignation — of giving up. 

Hitoka wants to kiss that smile away, get him to open up to her, to tell her about what’s going on inside his head. She’d crack his ribs and take a peek into his heart if she could. 

But things are different now. She’s not Osamu’s girlfriend anymore, and this had been a choice she made consciously. 

“I’m sorry.” She says, despite knowing that Osamu would have hated hearing this too. 

“Eh it’s fine. It’s life.” There’s a silence that lasts for a few seconds too long before Osamu stands up, “I should walk you home. It’s late.” 

Hitoka absentmindedly nods and doesn’t even complain when he takes her guitar case from where she’d left it. 

Their steps sync together easily. Hitoka didn’t have to adjust the length of her steps to match his, nor did he have to try and slow down just to make sure she’s still right beside him. 

It feels like rediscovering an old song that you love before, you still know every single lyric and every single pause before the verses. 

The walk back to Hitoka’s place is silent. All they could hear are their own footsteps and the sound of a sleeping Tokyo around them. Hitoka’s shoulders aren’t tense and the sinking feeling in her gut a while ago had disappeared. Thoughts about the status of her upcoming EP as well as the warring thoughts about her feelings had disappeared. 

It’s the most peaceful she’d been in months. 

When they reach the front steps of Hitoka’s apartment building, she turns to Osamu; “I’ll be fine here.” 

He shakes his head. “I’ll walk you up to your door. I need to know you got home safely instead of just safely getting on the front steps of your building.” 

Hitoka bites her lip and considers. She doesn’t know why he’s doing this — why he’s trying to do the things he used to do for her back when they were dating when they’re obviously broken up. Hitoka would have refused, but she misses this. She misses him. 

“All right.” She lets him hang onto her guitar and lets herself stand close enough to him that their shoulders touch during the elevator ride. 

In front of Hitoka’s door, she takes her guitar and smiles at Osamu. 

“Thanks for walking me home… and for going to the show.” 

“Don’t worry about it. The song was amazing by the way.” He replies, wearing the same smile that never fails to make her knees buckle. 

Hitoka gives him another gentle nod before turning to press the passcode on her lock. The door opens and Hitoka enters — but stops halfway when she realizes that Osamu is still waiting by the threshold like he’s trying to consider doing something. 

“Osamu what’s—” She’s cut off by Osamu suddenly placing his arms around her. 

“We can’t be doing this… we’re broken up…” Saying those words makes Hitoka feel as though there is a sword being driven straight to her chest. She doesn’t mean it, but if they’re really broken up, they might as well start acting like it. 

“Just for this once.” His voice is soft, barely even a whisper. It’s how Hitoka hears the underlying plea in his remark. 

She doesn’t know what happened to Osamu during the past year — she never even dared to ask his brother even if they’re both close. But seeing him and talking to him today is enough to let her know that he’s  _ tired.  _

Hitoka nods and lets herself return the embrace. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> and here it is... chapter six. i swear i'm going to try my best to finish this before the year ends and to update every week. this chapter is just... a nightmare to write. i wrote a lot of stuff only to end up deleting all of them and start all over again. i forgot how many times that happened but it /did/ happen a lot of times. this chapter isn't edited because i'm just glad to be able to put this out after struggling with it for months.


End file.
